


Ain't the Same

by awriter_fromspace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Gen Work, No Slash, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awriter_fromspace/pseuds/awriter_fromspace
Summary: Dean's been hunting with dad and Sam's been all alone, in shitty motel rooms, for months. They finally get to spend some time together after dad drops them off at Bobby's. Sam just wants to go to the movies and hang out, but Dean only sees this as a punishment.~~Just a cute little piece of everyday life for the Winchester boys. A little angst from Dean at suddenly being left behind by their dad, some bitchyness from Sam because it's the first time he's seeing Dean in months and he doesn't want to hang out. But they work it out! ^.^gen, Sam's about 12, Dean is 17/18, will be multi-chapter~~
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Part I

"Dean, let's go to the movies."

It takes Dean by surprise, he had almost forgotten Sam was even there. The boy had been so quiet since they had been dumped here, content to do nothing more than keep Dean company as he worked on this car. But now, the casual suggestion rings out into the still of the day, cutting through Dean's determination to forget this reality. "What?" He snaps back.

But Sam isn't bothered, calmly as ever replies, "the movies. I wanna see a movie!"

Dean's been hunched under the hood of the car for hours, lost to the world of metal parts and gears, but glances now, eyes narrowed, over at Sam. "No."

It's decisive, no room for argument, so he ducks his head back under to continue his work.

"Come on, Dean! We haven't seen a movie in forever. Please?" Sam whines and, without looking, he knows the boy's got those wide pleading eyes on.

"No, Sam- "

"But who knows how long we're gonna be here!? Don't you wanna do something fun instead of more work? This is the first time dad's let you have any time off in months!"

"Damn it, Sam! I said no." He stands up straight this time, glaring down at Sam. "Besides, you think this is time off? Dad left me here to babysit you!"

"Then why'd he leave us at Bobby's!? And I can take care of myself- "

"I don't know! Ok? I don't know why the hell he wanted me to stay here and it doesn't matter. I don't wanna go to the movies! If you're not gonna be quiet just leave me alone." Dean moves back under the hood, fuming, awful theories of why he was left here swirling around again in his head.

Just yesterday dad had dropped them off here at Bobby's house, insisting Dean stay behind, too, even though they had spent the last few months hunting together. It wasn't the first time Dean had been allowed to go with dad but it was the longest, and he really thought he was getting good at it, good enough for dad to see him as a partner. Then, out of nowhere, bam, abandoned here with a sarcastic drunk and a moody preteen.

So maybe Dean wasn't doing as well as he thought, or maybe he fucked up somehow, or he just wasn't good enough, and rather than tell him that directly dad decided to "kindly" leave him behind instead. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to think about it anymore and, until just now, he had been pretty successfully distracting himself with the cold, straightforward mechanics of the car. He tries really hard to put his focus back on that, on the wiring in the engine he was working on, but it's pointless. The nagging thoughts, the feeling that his being here is some sort of punishment, refuse to go back into the shadows, occupying center stage.

He sighs.

"See?" Sam says calmly, quietly, from his spot on the ground. "You need a day off."

Dean rubs a still greasy hand across his face and sighs again. "Come on, let's go inside. I'm hungry." And walks away without checking to see if Sam's following or not.

They eat turkey sandwiches in silence in the kitchen, Sam staring Dean down the entire time as if deciding if picking another fight is worth it, and Dean pointedly staring into his plate, ignoring him. Sam leaves it for now, but Dean knows it's not over. He just can't figure out why this is so important to Sam. Of all the things to be a bitchy kid about, why this?

The question rattles around in his head while he cleans the few dishes they dirtied up but, just like everything else right now, he can't seem to unravel it. He thinks and thinks as he prepares another sandwich for Bobby, but no answer arrives. He even considers talking to Bobby about it, but when he enters the study where Bobby keeps all his books, the man is so engrossed in his own argument over the phone that he decides to forget it.

Sam doesn't forget. They're on the couch, on opposite ends of the three-seater sofa, doing exactly what Sam wanted, watching a movie. It's still sort of early in the day so the only things really on are soap operas and this one, terrible, black and white movie about some French guy falling in love. Dean doesn't totally understand, the subtitles go by too fast to read sometimes, and it's boring, anyway, too sappy and unrealistic. He gets a small sense of satisfaction from the fact that Sam doesn't seem to like it, either, but it still feels good. Victory in some abstract way.

"Dean," he turns toward him, voice low, like a scolded child apologizing reluctantly. "Wouldn't you rather see a real movie?"

Dean sighs deeply and doesn't even acknowledge him for a moment. He still doesn't know why Sam's bugging him so much about this, but it's not like Sam's the one that left him here. Despite his earlier assertion, it's not Sam's fault he's stuck here, and it's unfair to take it out on him. And now that he's cooled down heading out to a movie theater for a night out doesn't sound so bad. It might even be fun.

"Fine, Sammy." He finally concedes.

Sam smiles, genuine and all dimples. He scoots closer to Dean and starts picking apart the movie they're currently watching with nothing but biting sarcasm and remorseless humor, and Dean can't help but follow suit. It makes for a good night, joking and laughing in a way Dean hasn't done in a very long time. In months.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean agrees to go to the movies, but the night doesn't go exactly as planned.

The next day starts much the same as the day before. A quick breakfast, Sam quietly eating next to Dean before following him out to the same car as before. Dean gets to work under the hood right away and Sam settles, with some book, onto the ground. This time it doesn't take more than an hour for Sam to pipe up.

"You're still taking me to the movies, right?"

Dean has to take a breath, remind himself not to lash out irrationally, "yep."

"Good." And Sam blissfully leaves it at that.

Except now, Dean's the one having a hard time letting go. He still wonders what it is about this movie that's making Sam act like this. Sure, the boy will fight about pretty much anything with dad, but he's usually not like this with Dean. Usually... well, actually, if he's really thinking about it, it's been months since he's even seen Sam for longer than a day or two. The most time they spend together is when they're in the car, driving to the next hunt, and even that time they spend apart. Dean happily riding shotgun next to dad, Sam reading or staring out the window in the back. It's been so long that he has to count the days, do the math, and it's been about three months since he started hunting pretty much full time with dad. And for the first time, ever, the thought crosses his mind that Sam's been completely alone that entire time.

For three months Dean's been having the time of his life, zipping across the country with dad, killing monsters, and he hasn't once spared a thought for the poor boy that used to cry when dad left them both behind for hunts. Three months of the monotony of motels, small towns, and new people. All different, yet exactly the same. All alone, without dad and, for the last three months, without Dean either. It's an awful realization and, suddenly, he feels so sorry for the boy. Feels so bad for three months of insensitive comments about how excited he was to leave again.

Maybe that's why he doesn't think so hard when Sam says he wants to see a horror movie. And Dean just agrees.

Maybe that's why he also agrees to sneak out at night, after nine when they're supposed to be in bed. Even though Bobby would've given them permission if they had just gone earlier.

Maybe that's why he doesn't protest when Sam insists they should take one of the cars on the lot without telling Bobby. Even though that's the dumbest idea of all time.

Dean's going to chalk it up to not thinking out of guilt, to being wrapped around Sam's little finger, but he still doesn't object. So he finds himself driving a janky old car into the not-so-nearby town. He keeps panicking inside his head and the only thing keeping it from spilling out is how happy Sam looks, grinning wide in the passenger seat next to him. So Dean drives all the way to the movie theater, parks a few blocks down, tries to squash his crazy fear that something will go wrong tonight.

They get out and walk the few blocks to the theater, still in silence, but close enough to be bumping shoulders, something they haven't really done in what feels like years. It eases Dean's mind a little, comforting in a familiar way, until they reach the little ticket booth.

"We can't see that, you're too young."

"I'm 13!" Sam glares up at him, hands on his hips.

"Barely! Anyway, that's R-rated, you're too young. They won't let you in."

"They will with you."

Dean sighs. Maybe he was all wrong about Sam being lonely and instead he is just being used right now, but Sam really knows him too well. Dean had seen the commercials for this movie a while ago and was actually really interested. It promised to be bloody, gory, and all-around the exact kind of movie he loved. But he knew Sam pretty well, too, and he was still a kid, the kind of kid that cringed at the sight of blood and got nightmares from jump scares and monsters in movies. If everything up to this point had been a bad idea, this was about to be the crown jewel in his terrible decision-making.

Dean looks at Sam for a long moment, then, finally, nods in defeat. "Fine. Stay here, I'll get the tickets."

The girl in the booth doesn't even look up as she hands over the tickets, eyes glued to a magazine open in front of her. The ticket attendant doesn't say anything, either, just points them to their theater number. And, just like that, Dean finds himself standing next to Sam in a line to buy an excessive amount of popcorn and a box of milk duds.

The theater they're in is almost empty, not surprising since, at 10:48 pm, it's the last showing of the night. They settle into middle seats in a row near the back, Dean's instincts needing the peace of mind of being able to see the whole room in front of him, and being near an exit. Sam doesn't complain, doesn't even comment on how far back they are, carelessly tossing popcorn in the air to catch with his mouth. Soon the room dims and the screen comes on with its usual previews.

It becomes very obvious very fast that Sam is definitely too young for this. He's jumping at every little thing, trying to hide behind a brave face even though Dean can feel him shudder next to him. He throws an arm over Sam's bony shoulders, an attempt at comforting him, but it has an opposite effect. Startled, Sam shakes so violently that most of the popcorn he's holding ends up on the floor. Dean pulls him close and Sam immediately turns to hide against him, pressing his face into his shoulder, still shaking.

Sam braves it out another 20 minutes, but Dean can feel every little tremor and hitched breath and, finally, can't just sit here anymore. Sam tries to protest weakly but Dean pulls him out of there, holds his hand tightly as they walk out, and pretends not to notice how relieved Sam is to leave. But, despite everything, Sam is a stubborn kid and turns to Dean as soon as they're outside.

"We don't have to leave if you don't want." He says it quietly, not quite meeting Dean's eyes. "I can go back in there, I know you really wanted to see it."

"No, it's fine." He wraps his arm around Sam's shoulders again, pulling him toward the car. "It wasn't really that good, anyway." And, honestly, he hadn't been paying too much attention to any of it, totally distracted by Sam.

"Really? But you always love horror movies." Sam says it like he could actually turn back and sit through the rest of it, but doesn't make any real attempt to do so.

"Not always." Dean frowns. "Just cuz it's a horror movie doesn't mean it's good. I don't like _every_ horror movie I see."

"Yeah, you do!"

"Shut up. I can still tell the difference between good movies and bad ones."

"Really? What about that movie you made me watch with the killer ghost with a chainsaw? That was stupid and you loved it."

"You weren't even watching that one, you were under your blankets trying to read the entire time!"

"Only cuz it was so bad. It didn't even make sense! Why would a ghost need a chainsaw to kill people?"

Dean laughs at that, loud and clear. He can't really argue that one, or that it is, in fact, one of his favorite movies. "Fine, fine. I like horror movies." He keeps grinning as they get in the car, the most at ease he's been all day.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam says once they're settled in, low and serious, like he's apologizing for ruining his life or something.

It's starting to get annoying and Dean has to catch himself before he says something stupid. He takes a breath, instead, and lets a smile spread across his lips before turning to Sam. "You want a milkshake?"

It's something he hasn't forgotten about Sam, even after his hunting spree, that milkshakes are like a cure-all for the boy. Plenty of arguments and blue days have been fixed with the offer of a milkshake, and today's no exception. Sam seems to forget his guilt almost immediately and perks up, eagerly nodding his head. Dean laughs and drives to a 24-hour diner Bobby used to take them to, back when dad was constantly leaving them both behind. When they get there Sam moves to get out of the car but Dean makes him stay, running in and ordering their drinks to go. Sam's not so happy anymore when he gets back, two giant cups in his hand, but accepts one of the drinks with a quiet _thanks_. Dean doesn't reply, just pushes the poor little car as fast as it will go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so there's part 2, hope you liked it! I'm not the best at dialogue and this story is partly an attempt at practicing more of it, so if you have any comments or suggestions on that, let me know! Otherwise, I'll see you all on part 3 ^.^


	3. Part III

They reach a little clearing in the woods not far off the main road, the car creaking and groaning the entire way, and if Sam's been suspicious at all about where they were headed, he hasn't said anything until now. "Where are we?"

"You don't remember this place?"

Sam shakes his head, frowning. 

"You don't remember me kicking your ass over there?" He points past Sam to the center of the field where dad used to bring them for sparring practice. 

"No. But I think I remember you crying like a little girl when I beat _you_." They both laugh for a long moment. "Why are we here?"

"Don't you know? Time to settle the score." Sam looks up at him sharply, at that, believing it for a second, and Dean laughs at him, can't help it. "Come on." 

Dean makes Sam step out into the warm night, bright with starlight, and forces him onto the hood of the car. It takes a few minutes for them to get comfortable but they finally settle in, backs against the windshield, pressed close to each other. They stay there for a long time, staring at the stars, and Dean looses track of time. Until Sam makes an awful noise next to him and, for a moment, his mind races with all the horrible possible reasons, but when he looks over Sam is holding his head between his hands, half groaning, half laughing. 

"Brain freeze." He finally grits out, dissolving fully into laughter. Dean laughs, too, enjoying every moment of something he didn't even realize he missed.

But Dean makes the mistake of checking his watch and curses. "Sammy, I gotta get you home."

"What am I, your prom date?"

Dean laughs, despite himself. "When'd you get so funny, anyway?"

"While you were off roaming the whole country with dad." There's a bite to the words. 

So Dean was right, this whole "movie night" thing was about how absent he'd been for the last few months. "Right... listen, Sammy-"

"It's fine." 

There's an awkward pause before he tries again. "Really, Sam, I'm sorry-"

"No you're not! You love being with dad." 

Dean sighs. It's not like he can fight that, not with every time he's talked about wanting to head back out with dad, so he stays silent, instead. After a while he pulls Sam close with a side hug and just says, "I do miss you, though."

Sam tenses in his arms. "You do?" He asks hesitantly. 

"Course I do. And I'm gonna tell you a huge secret." Sam looks up at him curiously, easing into the hug. "But you gotta promise not to tell anyone." 

Sam nods eagerly and Dean leans in closer to whisper, "you're my only friend."

They burst out laughing. 

"That's kinda sad." Sam says after a while, letting his head fall against Dean's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess we're just two sad losers."

"Hey! I have friends."

Dean chuckles, "like who? Bobby?"

"No, at school." He sounds sad again and Dean can't help but feel sorry for him. It's not Dean's fault they keep moving, never taking root anywhere, but he still feels bad.

"Right. Yeah. You must be real popular, huh, Sammy?" He shakes him a little. "I bet the girls are all over you."

"Ew." Sam shoves at him and laughs. "No, gross."

They fall into an easy silence. Sam is slurping up the last of his milkshake while Dean stares off into space, but after a while he checks his watch again and he really does have to get them back to Bobby's. He forces a much more content Sam back into the car and tries not to strain the rickety car too much as he rushes back. It still takes almost an hour and Sam's asleep in the passenger seat when they arrive. Dean has to shake him awake and half carry him up to the bathroom, but once they're changed and ready for bed, Sam's suddenly wide awake.

They're in Dean's room, Dean already deep under the covers with Sam chatting away, sitting on the edge of the bed. The boy's talking a mile a minute about every second of his life the past few months without Dean, as if the past few hours have fixed something between them that Dean was never even aware had been broken. But Sam's so excited and Dean's so tired, he just lets the boy go on and on about the most inconsequential things, and Dean really does try to pay attention, to show his interest, but it's been a long day. The words swirl together into a lulling cadence, carrying him off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3, I technically have a fourth part but it's more of an epilog type deal and I haven't finished writing it or decided if I'll post it or not. So this is basically the end of this story, hope you all liked it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it and I can't wait to post the rest! Kudos and comments if you want <3
> 
> Title is from One Headlight by The Wallflowers, that one line that goes: man, I ain't changed, but I know I aint' the same.


End file.
